It’s been just over two months since my little brother, Mark, passed away. I honestly don’t know what to say besides I miss him dearly. Like any sibling should be, Mark was -and still is- very near and dear to me. The two of us shared a special bond. We knew with Mark’s deteriorating condition in the final stage of kidney failure meant that his death was imminent. My mom called the night before he died to ask if she should wake me if he started to go during the night. I begged to her please wake me. I was scared of him being alone.
The following morning, I woke up to dark skies and pounding rain. I remember thinking wow, what a mood. Even the weather knows how I feel. The clouds parted as I drove out to my parents house. I saw the biggest double rainbow I have ever seen in my entire life. I knew at that moment that everything was going to be okay. I held Mark’s hand, told him how I love him. It was hard. My parents, sister, her husband, my husband, and I were with Mark when he died. We were lucky to be together with him at that moment. The hours that passed felt like a blur. My mom and I packed up the next morning and drove to wholesalers in Salt Lake. It was surreal to walk through coolers picking out the flowers intended for my brother. I secretly hoped the day would never come. I spent the weekend processing flowers and arranging them into various pieces for the funeral. I always try to give my best work to my clients, but I poured my heart and soul into each piece. It was the most impassioned work I’ve ever created.
It was amazing to see how many people loved Mark and how many lives he had touched during his 17 years. He has a sweet, ever-loving soul. I’m lucky to call him my brother. My parents had 2 Timothy 4:7 sewn into the casket lid, and I find it very fitting for Mark’s sweet soul. It reads: I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith:
Noah & I standing at Mark’s side at the conclusion of the evening viewing.
Natalie & I saying goodbye shortly before the casket was closed.